Читать книгу The Complete Works of Algernon Blackwood. Novels, Short Stories, Horror Classics, Occult & Supernatural Tales, Plays онлайн

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And then they knew the man for what he was. He shot past them into the night, carrying this time a flat and emptied sack, and singing like a blackbird as he went:—

Sweeping chimneys and cleaning flues,

That is the work I love;

Brushing away the blacks and the blues,

And letting in light from above!

I twirl my broom in your tired brain

When you're tight in sleep up-curled,

Then scatter the stuff in a soot-like rain

Over the edge of the world.

The voice grew fainter and fainter in the distance—

For I'm a tremendously busy Sweep,

Catching the folk when they're all asleep,

And tossing the blacks on the Rubbish Heap

Over the edge of the world…!

The voice died away into the wind among the high branches, and they heard it no more.

'There's a Sweep worth knowing,' murmured Rogers, strong yearning in him.

'There are no blacks or blues in my brain,' exclaimed Monkey, 'but Jimbo's always got some on his face.'

The impudence passed ignored. Jimbo took his cousin's hand and led him to the opening. The 'men' went in first together; the other sex might follow as best it could. Yet somehow or other Monkey slipped between their legs and got in before them. They stood up side by side in the most wonderful place they had ever dreamed of.